


Petrichor

by trash_bandicoot



Category: A.C.E (Beat Interactive Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Artists, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Coffee Shops, F/M, Female Reader, Fluff, One Shot, Oneshot, art major sehyoon, art student sehyoon, artist sehyoon, kim sehyoon x reader, kim sehyoonxreader, sehyoonxreader, wow x reader, wowxreader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:41:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29493717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trash_bandicoot/pseuds/trash_bandicoot
Summary: pet·ri·chor/ˈpeˌtrīkôr/nouna pleasant smell that frequently accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather.
Relationships: Kim Sehyoon | Wow/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Petrichor

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is my first time writing fanfiction in probably close to 10 years. I know everyone has done a coffee shop AU, but they're probably my favorite I thought this would be a way for me to get back into writing. I originally wanted to post this as a twitter thread with “imagine you’re sitting in your favorite coffee shop and Sehyoon asks if the seat next to you is taken”, but once I started I got carried away and this happened! I hope you enjoy!

You’re sitting in the comfiest chair in your favorite café. Backpack at your feet, your current read in your lap, and a warm mug in your hands. The window to your right is large, framing the bustling street outside full of people trying to beat the much needed rain. The weather had been unseasonably hot and dry, but a cold front had slowly crept its way into the city, leaving the sky dark and swirling as the warm air mixed with the static in the clouds, threatening to open up at any moment.

The table in front of you was small with a few coasters scattered around fliers that promoted local art exhibits and music events. Across from you an arm chair, which you know to be just as comfortable as the one you’re sitting in, was unoccupied. There was a constant flow of customers coming and going with to-go cups and umbrellas in hand, bringing the jingle of the bell over the door with each one and a wave of that fresh, earthy, smell that comes before the rain. You breathed it in with a smile on your face, letting it fill your lungs and clear your mind before returning your attention to your book.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”  
“Oh, no. By all means.” You said, but a loud crack of thunder followed by the sound of raining hitting the window interrupts you. 

Immediately your attention is drawn away from the voice and to the weather outside. As if on queue, a streak of lightning flashes across the sky followed by another low rumble of thunder. The rain came down in sheets, painting the window with large drops of rain, each one racing to the bottom. With a hum of contentment you returned your gaze to your book, not completely unaware of the person that had taken the chair across from you.

A few more pages turned, and a comfortable hum had fallen over the café. Soft, ambient music played on hidden speakers somewhere over head while the patter of rain on the window and hushed conversations added their own remix to the track. The sound of pencil against parchment piqued your interest enough to pull you away from your book and look up at the chair across from you. 

A male, most likely in his 20s, is seated with a sketchbook in his lap. A few pencils had spilled out of the pouch that sat next to his seemingly forgotten mug on the table, a backpack covered in doodles of flowers and sewn-on patches sits at the floor accompanied by an umbrella, and a jacket draped over the back of his chair. His attention is focused on his work, unaware of your eyes on him. You glace around the café quickly, making sure you go unnoticed before returning your gaze to him.

A black beanie hides his hair, but dark locks still manage to make an appearance. An oversized black sweatshirt envelopes him, making him look impossibly tiny despite how long his legs look in jet black skinny jeans, and a pair of grey high top Converse on his feet. His eyes are cast down at his sketchbook but you notice his tongue sticking out past his lips in concentration as he worked. His passion was obvious in the way his hand moved effortlessly across the page and you couldn't help but be captivated, your eyes glued to him while the rest of the café around him seemed to disappear.

As if finally sensing your gaze after what felt like hours, his concentration breaks and he looks up. Dark, mysterious, eyes meet yours like a magnet. A soft gasp escapes your lips as your heart clenches in your chest and your ears grow hot. Caught. Red handed. You frantically return your attention to the forgotten book in your lap, the grip on your mug turning your knuckles white.

Your heartbeat thrummed in your ears as the words on the pages blurred together, your head reeling. 

_Stupid._

You thought as you attempted to focus once more. Your face was still hot, but you couldn’t help steal another glance in his direction. His eyes were on his sketchbook again, but you noticed the faint tinge of pink across his cheeks. Was he just as flustered as you had been?

_There’s no way, y/n. He’s just embarrassed that you were staring at him._

With an inward sigh and a slight shake of your head, you glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that you had been there for a little over an hour. You returned your focus to your book, making a mental note that the rain had slowed and people were drifting out of the café.

-

__

Before long, you were completely absorbed in your read. Your once warm mug had grown cold, and the last few sips of your drink along with it. Another glance at the clock had confirmed how late it had grown. The chair across from you was still occupied by the artist you had tried your best not to make eye contact with again. You did, however, steal a few glances when you had turned pages, only to find him still focused on the drawing at hand, tongue sticking out again as he moved his wrist, adding detail to his work.

__

The flicker of streetlights caught your attention, and for a moment you stopped to watch the way the light danced across the raindrops on the window. It had stopped raining now, which meant your walk home would be much more pleasant. The crisp air after the rain had always helped to clear your head, and a that was exactly what you needed as the thought of dark chocolate eyes crept into your mind again, making your face flush once more.

__

Content with the progress you made in your book, you placed your mug on the table, grabbing one of the fliers to use as a bookmark. You noticed that this particular flier listed information for an art exhibit being held the next weekend at the local university.

__

_Definitely something I’ll drag my best friend to._ You thought with a smile before placing the flier in your book.  


You unzipped your backpack and tossed your book in, knowing full well that your carelessness had probably knocked your makeshift bookmark out of place. You rummaged around for your keys when two grey Converse appeared in front of you.

__

“Hi,” the same voice from hours ago spoke.

__

You looked up to see those dark, mesmerizing orbs that had captured yours earlier. You immediately felt your cheeks grow warm at how breathtaking he was up close, less than an arms reach away. Your earlier assumption about his height was proven correct as he stood over you. He had pulled on his jacket, and his backpack was slung over one of his shoulders. In his hands he held his umbrella and a folder the same size as his sketchbook.

__

“Hi,” you managed before sitting back to look at him, forgetting about your keys at the bottom of your backpack.

__

“I uh...I hope this isn’t weird or anything, but here.” His voice was shy, and his cheeks had turned the same shade of pink you thought you had seen earlier as he held out the folder in his hands.

__

“What’s this?” You asked, hesitantly accepting the folder.

__

“It’s what I was working on today...” his voice gentle as he looked down at his feet. You noticed how red the tips of his ears were, and you couldn’t help the way your heart ached.

__

“And I hope to see you at the art exhibit next weekend.”

__

“Art exhibit?” You questioned, completely forgetting about the flier you had read moments ago.

__

A soft chuckle and his gaze met yours again, making your heart stop and your head swirl.

__

“Check your bookmark,” the once shy smile had turned into a smirk and butterflies flooded your stomach.

__

You looked down at the folder in your hands, and then to your forgotten backpack on the floor. Finally the dots had connected in your brain and you looked back up to see him heading towards the door.

__

“Wait!”

__

You were on your feet now, just about ready to follow him out the door when he turned around.

__

“See you!” He said with a wave and a smile, taking a few steps backwards before turning and exiting the café.

__

You felt frozen, rooted to the spot where you had been standing. You looked down at the folder in your hands again and carefully opened it.

__

You couldn’t help the way your breath caught in your throat, or the way that your eyes grew wide, or how your heartbeat thrummed in your ears again. Inside sat a drawing of the café’s interior; from the order counter, to the book shelves, to the posters and artwork on the walls. But the focal point of the drawing is what left you speechless.

__

There on the page in your hands, perfectly captured in graphite; the small table covered in coasters and fliers, the large window overlooking the street painted with rain, your backpack on the floor next to your feet, your book in your lap, your hands around your mug, your hair in a perfectly messy bun atop your head, and a ghost of a smile on your face as you read your book in your favorite comfy chair. 

__

_Unbelievable.  
Absolutely unbelievable._  


Your mind swam again and your heart fluttered as you looked up from the folder to the chair and the window, then back down at the drawing again. It was only then that you noticed a name written in the bottom left corner of the drawing.

__

_Petrichor - Kim Sehyoon_  


You repeated the name over and over again in your head, committing it to memory even though you knew perfectly well that you would never forget it. If you had any hesitancy about going to the art exhibit next weekend, that had vanished. Closing the folder, you tucked it into the sleeve of your backpack meant for a laptop or textbook and manage to find your keys in the process. Pulling on your jacket and slinging your backpack over your shoulders, you fished your phone out of your pocket and dialed your best friend’s number.

__

Within two rings she answers, and you’re headed out the door of the café.

__

_“Hey girl, what’s up?! I just got back to our apartment, everything okay?”_ Her voice crinkles through the speaker.

__

“Hey! Yeah everything is fine. Don’t make plans for next weekend, okay?”

__

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! I know I could probably use a lot of work considering I'm so rusty, but I hope you enjoyed! feel free to come say hi on [twitter](https://twitter.com/kimbabekwan) much love xx


End file.
